


time is slowly tracing his face (but strangely he feels at home in this place)

by inklovish



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: And it's AMAZING, Canon Compliant, Gen, Other, also I already came up with a first line for this other maleficent fic, and I'm crying, because i didn't, did you guys know that maleficent is malevolent and magnificent put together, i NEED TO ATTEND TO MY OTHER FANDOMS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21652297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inklovish/pseuds/inklovish
Summary: They feel it, when the Moors twist.They feel it when a soul turns; they hear grief and pain and agony of a fledgling with wings cut off before the thief is old enough to understand what he's done.(Traitor,the fae whisper as he bumbles through their land, tripping and running and stumbling over his own two feet--thief why would you do this why would you steal she will murder-)He is gone when the sun rises, and her grief is one that the Moors will never forget.oneshot.
Relationships: Aurora & Maleficent (Disney), Maleficent & Diaval
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	time is slowly tracing his face (but strangely he feels at home in this place)

They feel it, when the Moors twist.

They feel it when a soul turns; they hear grief and pain and agony of a fledgling with wings cut off before the thief is old enough to understand what he's done.

( _Traitor,_ the fae whisper as he bumbles through their land, tripping and running and stumbling over his own two feet-- _thief why would you do this why would you steal she will murder_ -)

He is gone when the sun rises, and _her_ grief is one that the Moors will never forget.

Familiar magic burns across the roots of the trees when she leaves, her heart twisting with black fire, and the fae hide and wait for the sun to return again.

She saves the raven boy, and he is sworn to her side for what she thinks is a fair debt--though ravens' loyalty is not just forged in green magic and sealed with a flick of the wrist, the Moors know ( _"anything you need," the raven says, bows low and rises her servant_ ). The loyalty of ravens is forever.

Though she is without her wings she is a grace that the fae welcome into their presence, frightened as they may be. They have no other ruler; they have no other guardian; and they have known no one to protect them as fiercely as she.

They watch her leave for the castle with not a word of protest: they cannot stop her, for she is handicapped but her horns and her evergreen magic are weapons, and she seems to feel like nothing if not the vengeance that has blackened her heart. She returns with a smile that must mean the sky is falling down and the Raven-man trembling behind her, her staff in hand and a miserable, cackling laugh falling from her lips.

The sky cracks open, and the Moors glow in the darkness that has befallen the world. In all of sixteen years they evolve and adapt, and they are found to glow anywhere and everywhere they can. They become a land full of darkness but full of light, become used to what their world has become, and they are living on through every step their guardian makes. The Moors are beautiful for knowing loss better than they know life. She is grieving, though angry and vengeance-hungry she is, her pain reflects upon the Moors, and they understand and they do not hate her.

Then the girl comes, bright and joyful and nearly-dead, and despite everything their guardian has done for them, killed and fought and slaved away for them, the Moors ache for an era where they are allowed to see gold and death does not follow.

The girl _smiles,_ sunlight and purity and magic, and the dryads feel something golden curl itself around their roots and hold on tight.


End file.
